Election
I confess to being caught up in the tides of change, in the steady mantra of “yes, we can.” Tuesday, November 4th, in Boston the sky was bright and crisp—the leaves were gems—and the lines were long. Anticipation hung in the air, and the evening news gave us early confirmation. The suspense did not last long. Still, the victory is bittersweet: on the radio yesterday, I heard that many of those drawn to the polls because of Obama’s call for a new day were the same voters who said no to gay/lesbian marriage in California. Other states created more barriers incuding Arkansas—stating that gay/lesbian couples cannot adopt children.
Bardo Again
Came across this quotation from Lionel Trilling:
“Between is the only honest place to be.”
Saturday in New Jersey
Just returned from a writers/editors conference at Rutgers University. What a well-conceived, well-organized event—a one day conference during which writers, editors, and agents mingle. And I was most impressed with the editors I met—all of them young and passionate, intelligent and thoughtful. They love books. They love good writing. And they volunteered a Saturday to offer encouragement, advice, and feedback. Trying to market one’s work can often feel discouraging, but the Rutgers University Council on Children’s Literature has found a way to make it encouraging. For that, I am grateful.
wiki teaching
Creating a collaborative website with students has been really fun. Students now have their own homepages from which they link their assignments. Their first papers/first drafts have been posted, and I have visited each one, making comments as I go. Students seem intrigued by this system.
I also did the first assignment along with my students, posting my first draft for them to see. Many commented that my draft inspired them or helped them to write their own.
Next steps, students will team up and visit each other’s sites/papers. I have asked them to identify main ideas and supporting evidence in the papers they read. In class, we are doing this same exercise with essays from our text book.
So far, I love this experiment.
Into the sun
On Friday, I flew from Boston to Kansas City. Then I climbed into a rented car and drove five hours west—into the sunset—toward Hastings, Nebraska.
Destination: my niece’s wedding.
The town of Hastings reminded me why I love and hate small towns. The tight knit community—the sense of family and connection—were so present. But so was silence.
The message I have always received in small, conservative towns is this: Come sit at our table. Share our food and companionship. But if you do, you must pretend to be like us, to believe like us, to share our values.
I realized, as I drove east yesterday morning, this time into the sunrise—that my new novel manuscript explores the small town conflict between closeness and closed-ness. The protagonist Mel Bird does not settle for silence. She insists that people look into, not only her closet, but other closets as well.
New Moon Falls, the fictional town in my fictional world, is a wish come true.
Maybe that’s why I love fiction so much.